


Homecoming

by Moontyger



Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, Han Solo Lives, Leia uses the Force, Post-Star Wars: The Force Awakens
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-08
Updated: 2016-02-08
Packaged: 2018-05-18 23:43:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,036
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5947765
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Moontyger/pseuds/Moontyger
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Leia could handle just about anything, but she was never truly ready for Han Solo - or for what she'd do to save him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Homecoming

**Author's Note:**

  * For [failsafe](https://archiveofourown.org/users/failsafe/gifts).



Leia knew Han was on Takodana before she'd even landed. Not because she'd been told – although she had – nor because the Millennium Falcon was clearly visible, at least to the eyes of one who knew it so well. No, she knew it because she _felt_ him, an ache in her chest and a thrill along her nerves that told her Han was nearby.

Before she met Luke, before she knew the truth about him, she'd have dismissed it as nothing, just a sign that she was getting sentimental in her old age. But now she knew better. It wasn't anything particularly impressive, nothing like Luke could do. It didn't let her read Han's mind or know where he'd been, just a little early warning system, a mental blinking light glimpsed from the corner of her eye.

So warned, she thought she was ready to see him. More, hadn't she _been_ ready, for years now? On some level, especially as tensions between the First Order and the Resistance worsened, she'd been waiting for him to show up at any time, with his easy grin and confidence that he had – or, more likely, was - the solution, capable of getting her and the Resistance as a whole out of any situation, able to solve any problems they might have. 

Any problem, that is, except the one that mattered most. 

But from her first sight of him, Leia knew she'd been wrong. She could handle just about anything, but she was never truly ready for Han Solo. It shouldn't have come as a surprise; it was part of why she'd fallen for him in the first place.

She looked him in the eyes and saw how reluctant he was to face her, the way his face and body spoke of a nervousness he'd never have shown in the face of certain death, and her heart melted. Had she been angry? Leia couldn't remember. No, that was a lie, she could, but her anger was old and faded, easy to simply release, let it be washed away in the rush of being glad to see him.

She didn't have to say it. Which was good, because talking about feelings had never been one of Leia's strong points. She could plan a battle; could make speeches to persuade or inspire. Could run a resistance or even a government. But close personal relationships, that was different; she'd never been much good at those. Maybe, in the end, that was where everything went wrong.

But maybe it wasn't, because Han had always been so good at knowing the things she didn't say. He'd known she loved him when she denied it, even to herself. He'd known that despite everything between them, she'd been glad to see him standing there, alive and whole amidst the ruin that was all the First Order had left of Maz's castle. 

And he'd known that there was still space left for him, in her heart and in her bed. She hadn't invited him, nor had he asked, but when he joined her there that night, Leia wasn't surprised. This was how things were between them: hot when things were at their worst and they might die at any second, more uncertain in times of peace and prosperity. Han climbed in her bed and she rolled over and reached for him. Why shouldn't she? After all, she'd been waiting for this, too.

* * *

When Kylo Ren stabbed Han – when the son she longed to see once more stabbed his father, whom Leia had so optimistically sent to bring him back - Leia felt that, too: a sharp, burning pain, like that single blow had struck both parents to the heart. She'd felt many things through the Force, but most of them had been vague, distant. Nothing else had been so intense or immediate. Maybe it was because it was so soon after their all-too-brief reunion, or maybe because it was her fault. Whatever the reason, she wasn't on Starkiller Base, but she not only knew what had happened, she felt it all so clearly that for a moment, she didn't see the Resistance command room or feel her own body at all.

She staggered, catching herself just before she hit the floor, but it was enough to jar her back to herself. Enough to let her focus, to do her duty, just as she had always done.

It was only after the battle that she was free to really think about what she'd experienced. She'd felt Han's pain, followed by something that felt almost like acceptance, then a gradual fading of awareness. It had almost been peaceful, which wasn't a word Leia had ever associated with Han.

Maybe that was why it felt so wrong. Alone in her quarters, mourning while the others celebrated a victory she couldn't bring herself to enjoy, Leia closed her eyes and reached out, trying to remember the lessons Luke had given her. She didn't know what she was looking for or what she thought this would accomplish, but she did it anyway: quieted her breathing and let her awareness of herself fade, traveling away from the Resistance base and through the vastness of space, seeking the spark that she'd come to identify with Han. It was foolish, but there was no one to see or to mock her for being sentimental.

She didn't expect to find anything, just an emptiness where her sense of Han had once been, proof that he was gone. She'd felt the lightsaber; knew how deeply it had cut. No one could have survived that wound. 

But part of her must have known the truth, because she found what she was looking for. It wasn't much, just a flicker, but the spark was still there. _Han was still alive._ Leia's eyes opened wide even as she realized the rest, something she hadn't even known she'd recognize until she'd felt it. She'd been right: Han should be dead. Kylo – she refused to dignify him with the name they'd given him even in her thoughts – had dealt his father a mortal wound. But she'd reckoned without the Force.

Leia knew what it felt like to be around someone kept alive at least in part by the dark side of the Force. She'd felt it before, every time she'd been around Darth Vader, though at the time she hadn't known what it was she was sensing. She'd thought the sick feeling she felt near him, the nauseating sense of something deeply wrong, had all been in her head, merely an illusion due to her imagination and her knowledge of the vile things he'd done. Even after she'd known the truth about him, she'd never made the connection. But now that she felt it again, she couldn't mistake it for anything else. Han had survived because someone strong in the dark side had made sure of it.

She spent the rest of the night planning her attack. In the morning, after she saw Rey and Chewbacca off to finally find Luke, Leia went to talk to the one person she knew might be able to help her with it.

To his credit, Poe didn't stare at her as though she were a crazy woman. He frowned, however, and glanced vaguely skyward. “They've gone to find Luke,” he pointed out. “Don't you want to wait for them to get back with him?”

Leia shook her head. “We don't have time for that. Han is on a ship with the others who escaped the destruction of the First Order base. They're taking him to Snoke and if he gets there, we'll have lost our chance.” Not entirely, perhaps, not with Luke on their side, but she didn't want to find out what Snoke had planned for Han. “I've had plenty of time to get used to doing things without Luke Skywalker.”

“You're coming, too?”

Leia's hands found her hips and she glared at him. “It's been awhile since I've been in the field, but I don't think I've forgotten everything quite yet,” she said drily. “You're going to need me for this one.”

“Yes, ma'am. What should I tell them if anyone asks where we're going?”

“Nothing. You'll tell them nothing.” Leia could feel that her smile was bitter, but she didn't bother to try to change it. “I've been through this before. No one will look for me; they'll give me time to mourn in peace.” And unlike before, when she'd desperately needed activity to keep herself from dwelling on the destruction of her home and family, Leia welcomed it. It would give her plenty of space to pull off this mission without anyone else being the wiser. 

That secrecy was for the best; she didn't want to get anyone's hopes up. Or worse: she didn't want to see them look at her with pity, wondering if Han's death had driven her over the edge into senility. Leia knew what she'd felt, but she couldn't prove it – at least, she couldn't if she sat around here. “I'm going to go get ready. You find us a ship – something small and fast, but with room for a bacta tank and a medical droid. Don't worry too much about my comfort – I'm tougher than I look. I can take it.”

* * *

Poe had taken her at her word: the bacta tank and accompanying droid fit, but there wasn't much room to move around.

“All right, where are we going?” Leia liked that about Poe: once he accepted a mission, he didn't argue about it. Unlike someone else she could name, but didn't, because the last thing she needed to be dwelling on was the reason for all this.

She told him the system and planet, but added, “And we have to get there fast. We need to do this as soon as they come out of hyperspace.” If they waited too long, the Star Destroyer would reach its destination, and then they'd have Snoke and the remainder of his followers to deal with. “I won't lie to you: we're taking a terrible chance here.”

“Don't worry, General. I've got it handled.” Poe's grin felt achingly familiar and Leia had to catch her breath, opening her eyes wider to keep back the tears. Han _wasn't_ dead; she couldn't let herself react as though he were.

If Poe noticed her eyes were wet despite her efforts, he didn't mention it. “I didn't think we knew where Snoke was based,” he commented instead, though not until they'd taken off and entered hyperspace, the familiar white star streaks filling the viewscreen and giving them nothing to look at but each other.

“We didn't – not until this morning.” She said nothing more and he didn't push, probably assuming it was classified. It wasn't; no one but Leia knew what she'd done. If they had, they might have wondered why she hadn't done it before and she wasn't sure she could explain.

Leia wasn't a Jedi; she didn't use the Force. Not consciously, at least, not since she'd told Luke she was done with training and walked away. She'd stuck by that decision and rarely regretted it. But now, with Han's life on the line, old promises meant less than nothing. Leia had used it: not just to look for Han, which might have been forgivable, but more – she'd looked for where the ship was going and she'd done it the only way she knew how. All this time, she'd kept her distance, never checked on her son, no matter how much she wanted to. She believed in privacy and free will; she left his mind alone. But there had been no other way to learn what she needed in time, so she used their connection, the bond between parent and child that no amount of anger could sever, and took what she needed. She wasn't proud of that fact, but she couldn't say she felt remorse for it either. Leia was a survivor and she was pragmatic; she did what needed to be done. 

Of course, she hadn't been able to keep Kylo from knowing what she'd done. She didn't have enough training for that, or maybe it wasn't possible, maybe that sort of connection couldn't be anything but mutual. He knew she was coming, though what he'd do about it, she wasn't sure. But no matter what he did, Leia wasn't about to let it stop her.

They made good time; good enough that they actually beat the Star Destroyer to their destination, albeit not by much. Leia swallowed hard when she saw it arrive, suddenly nearly on top of them where it had been only empty space a moment ago.

“How are we getting on board?” Poe asked, nervousness evident in his expression for the first time as he stared at the huge capital ship.

“We're going to fly right in.” Leia tossed him one of the First Order uniforms she'd gotten from one of their teams of undercover operatives. “Put this on.” There was no privacy in the small cockpit, nothing other than looking away, but Leia didn't worry about it as she obeyed her own order, changing clothes in the small space as though she did this every day. Modesty wasn't the first thing on her mind at a time like this. “There must be plenty of other refugees fleeing the destruction of Starkiller Base. We'll fit right in.”

“Only until they look at our faces,” Poe pointed out. “Yours, especially, General. You're -”

“Known?” Leia nodded grimly. “You let me worry about that.” Her and her son. She might not know exactly what he'd do, but she didn't think he'd let her be stopped so easily. Kylo would want to deal with her himself. She was counting on it.

Which didn't mean she didn't have plans of her own. As she'd expected, their landing was permitted easily enough, far more so than would normally have been the case. The First Order survivors had had to flee in a hurry and it had left them in disarray; it was possible the person allowing their landing didn't even know the codes to ask for. It was frankly astonishing that they even had enough soldiers left to crew a ship of this size, which could only work in her favor.

They only sent a single stormtrooper to check them out, which was better than she'd hoped. Leia took a deep breath and tried to center herself, to feel her connection to the Force. She hadn't practiced this in a long time and she'd never liked doing it, but she had no choice. When the stormtrooper looked at her, she reached out, felt his will, and _pushed_. “Our story checks out,” she told him, relieved that her voice didn't shake.

The trooper nodded. “Their story checks out,” he repeated. “Everything's in order here. You're free to go.”

Shoulders back and posture as properly First Order military as they could make it, she and Poe left the flight deck and headed deeper into the ship. Leia didn't think she took a real breath until they were safely in a corridor and out of sight. Every second, she'd been expecting someone to notice and to hear the alarm raised, but no one seemed to notice anything amiss. 

“I didn't know you could do that.” Poe was staring at her like he'd never seen her before. Leia wasn't sure she liked it; people looked at Luke like that, not her, and especially not pilots she'd worked with for years.

“I wasn't sure I could,” she confessed, at least in part to try to head it off. “And keep your guard up; I can't guarantee I can do it again.”

“I see what you meant about needing you along for this,” he said, which suggested she hadn't succeeded.

But Leia had no more attention to spare. She let her sense of Han guide her now and between that and her growing sense of urgency as the ship carried them ever closer to Supreme Leader Snoke, she couldn't let herself worry about anything else. She led them as fast as she dared despite the growing ache in her legs and stitch in her side, and cursed the size of the ship, her failure to stay in fighting shape, and the stormtroopers they had to avoid in nearly equal measure.

As tense as she was, Leia had no real sense of how much time had truly passed since they'd landed. It felt like forever before she found the right room, but that told her nothing. It didn't matter anyway; she'd come too far to turn back now. She drew her blaster and nodded toward the door. “In there.”

The door opened with a whoosh and she stepped instead, blaster already raised. She wasn't at all surprised to see Kylo Ren - **not** her son, she told herself fiercely – waiting for them. Leia didn't pause to think; she fired, and she heard Poe's blaster fire just after hers.

She heard the snap-hiss of Kylo's lightsaber as he activated it and watched him deflect both shots, ducking before one hit her. He was wearing his mask and she found she was glad of it. That made this easier. 

She fired again, walking toward Kylo and the bunk where Han lay all the while. Now that she was here, Leia found she was no longer afraid. But then, it had never been her son whom she feared.

A third shot, and she was almost there. Leia reached out, not with her hands, but with the Force, and shoved. Kylo staggered and she smiled in satisfaction.

“You're so angry, mother. I can feel it: your rage, your hatred. Your fear.” Kylo said, and she winced. Leia wanted to raise her hands to her ears so she couldn't hear him, not because of his words, but because of how familiar he sounded. It was easier to deny him when she couldn't see his face, but she couldn't help recognizing his voice and remembering the little boy he had been. “The dark side would come so easily to you. Is this why you're a general and not a Jedi?”

“You know it is.” Leia refused to be ashamed of it, though she remembered how she and Luke had fought over it. She had tried to learn, to meditate and find the peace in her heart that a Jedi required. But she couldn't do it, or maybe Luke had been right and she just hadn't wanted to. “I saw what I'd become and I walked away.”

“But you couldn't stay away. You being here is proof of that. How could you presume to judge me? You're just like me.”

“She's nothing like you,” Poe put in hotly, but Leia lifted a hand to silence him.

“No, he's right. He was always too much like me and not enough like his father. I thought Luke could change that, but I was wrong.”

“You were wrong,” Kylo agreed. He turned his lightsaber, pointed it right at her, leveled at her throat. “And now I should kill you, too. You came all this way to find him; how about you join him instead.”

He swung, but Leia was ready for that. She threw herself to the floor, rolling to come up nearly on top of him, and struck out with her blaster – not a shot, but a blow. It hit Kylo's side and he gasped and doubled over, far more of a reaction than she'd expected, but she'd take it. She stepped over him, toward Han.

“I'll need you to help me with him,” she said to Poe, as though Kylo weren't even in the room.

“Stop!” Kylo's voice sounded strained and she saw blood on his hand; she must have re-opened a recent wound when she'd hit him. He pushed at her with the Force, trying to make her obey, but if there was one thing Leia had never been, it was obedient.

Instead of looking at her son, she looked at Han. His face was gray and his breathing shallow, but given that he shouldn't have been breathing at all, she'd take it. She lifted Han's shoulders, then nodded at Poe to take his feet.

Kylo didn't get up, though Leia knew he could have. “He'll die if you take him with you.”

“I'm not leaving him here for whatever Snoke has planned. I'll take that chance.” Leia braced herself and lifted and they started for the door.

“He'll know what you've done here,” Kylo pointed out.

“I know.” Leia looked back and saw he'd removed his mask. She forced herself not to look too closely and tried hard not to care. She'd told Han to bring their son back and instead, the monster their son had become had nearly killed him. She wasn't going to make that mistake again. “Tell Snoke we'll be coming for him.”

In the end, Poe carried Han most of the way back to their ship. Leia didn't like it, but it was too slow with them both doing it and no matter how much she wanted to, she couldn't carry him by herself. Han didn't stir and she had to restrain herself from checking on him or questioning herself. Even if Kylo had been right, she couldn't leave Han here. Snoke would use him: against Kylo, against her, against the Resistance. No matter what he'd been up to since they'd separated, she was sure Han wouldn't want that.

Getting out wasn't nearly as easy as getting in. It was hard to hide carrying a wounded man and even harder to explain. Leia tried to repeat what she'd done before, but for whatever reason, it didn't work. Maybe she was just too tired or distracted, or maybe this stormtrooper had a stronger will. They had to fight their way out, Leia in front clearing the way for Poe and Han.

Once aboard their ship, however, luck was with them. Leia cleared the flight deck with a few blasts of the ship's weapons, then they were out and on the run. Either the First Order had no TIE fighters left or they didn't feel they could risk the few remaining, because they made the jump to lightspeed without any further difficulty.

“He must not have told them who we were,” Poe speculated. “I can't imagine they'd have let you go so easily if they knew.”

“I'm sure he didn't want anyone to know he'd let us escape.” Though Kylo was right; Snoke _would_ know. But Leia couldn't let herself worry about that now. Her son had made his choice; it was time she finally accepted that. 

She transferred Han to the bacta tank and let the droid do its work.

“It's not looking good,” it said at last. “He's stable for now, but his wounds are serious. The chances of a full recovery are -”

Leia cut the droid off. “Never tell me the odds. He's alive for now and that's what counts.”

* * *

She had plenty of time to wonder if she'd been right about that once they arrived back at the Resistance base. Contrary to her expectations, they'd been missed, but little as she liked to do it, Leia pulled rank and avoided too many questions. Technically, she was perfectly entitled to do exactly as she'd done, even if her fellow officers made it clear none of them had to like it.

She couldn't avoid Chewbacca's complaints about leaving him out of the rescue mission, however, nor keep him from spending nearly all his time waiting for Han to wake up.

Han took his own sweet time about that. Several times, they nearly lost him, but somehow their medical team was always able to bring him back. Even with all their care and effort, it was weeks before he opened his eyes.

“Where… am… I?”

Leia smiled, eyes misting as she remembered the last time she'd come to his rescue like this. “With someone who loves you.” Chewbacca roared, and she added a correction, “Two people who love you.”

“Leia?” Han's fingers twitched and she took his hand. “You came for me. I thought that was a dream.”

“I'll always come for you… you scruffy-looking scoundrel.”


End file.
